


Sick Days

by thelonelywriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Drabble, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Romantic Fluff, Sick Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5956507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonelywriter/pseuds/thelonelywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco wakes up sick one morning and it's up to Harry to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Days

**Author's Note:**

> The thought of Draco being sick and needing Harry to take care of him and everything being all fluffy and cute and Draco being all smart-mouthed but still sweet and just general Drarry drabble and fluff came into my head the other day. This ficlet was the product. Ta-da.

The dim light of morning hit Harry’s eyes as he slowly opened them, blinking a few times. He shifted a bit, feeling the warmth of Draco’s body pressed against him, Draco’s back to his chest, Harry’s arm wrapped tightly and possessively around Draco’s middle as the other one stayed tucked under his pillow. Harry soon came to the conclusion that it was Wednesday, and after taking a glance at their clock on their bedside table, also came to the conclusion that he really needed to get up if he didn't want to be late for work.

He took in a deep breath of air and let it out, not wanting to move from underneath the comfort of the blankets that were draped over him and Draco. All the same, Harry slipped his arm from Draco's waist, doing his best not to disturb him as he placed a soft kiss to the back of Draco's neck and slid out of bed.

Harry made sure to be quiet when he got his robes and such together, and he made his morning tea downstairs as quickly as possible before going back upstairs to their bedroom to say goodbye to Draco. He expected Draco to be curled up tightly, just waking up under the covers, but instead, he found Draco splayed out, long limbs spanning the mattress as best they could, half the covers thrown off as Draco stared up at the ceiling.

“I'm sick,” Draco declared firmly, his voice cracking a bit, sounding almost nasally. Harry raised an eyebrow, staying where he stood.

“Are you now?” Harry asked. Him and Draco had been married for two years, and by now Harry knew that Draco could be a bit, (or a lot) of a drama queen when it came to being sick. Draco knew Harry’s aim by now, he knew that Harry was very particular about Draco when he got sick, and when he was faking being sick just to get the benefits of it. But, today, Draco really was sick.

“I don't even have a proper comeback for that because I'm so sick,” Draco told Harry, still not moving from where he lay. Harry rolled his eyes and walked over the side of the bed, reaching out his hand to feel Draco's forehead.

“Merlin, Draco, you are warm. You probably have a fever,” Harry said, taking his hand away and looking down at Draco, who looked paler than usual. “I can get you a cool cloth for your head, but I've got to get to work, love,” Harry told Draco sympathetically. Draco's hand shot out to Harry's arm, speed defying what he currently looked like. 

“No,” Draco stated firmly with a death grip on Harry's arm. “Skip work, take care of me. Those are the rules,” he demanded.

“How come I've never heard of these rules?” Harry asked. Draco took a deep breath.

“Listen,” he began, but was interrupted by a fit of coughing.

“Well I don't want to listen to that,” Harry joked, earning a glare from Draco.

“I am your husband, I am your love and your life, I am your grace and your support, and I am on my _deathbed_ right now. Are you, Harry Potter, Saviour of the wizarding world, icon of all that is pure and _good_ , too self centered to take care of me when I am withering away,” Draco ranted, pausing to cough a few times just for good measure. He knew how to get what he wanted from Harry.

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to go to work anyways, and a sick Draco, though quite difficult to care for, did sound better than work. “You should have had a career in theatre, you know that,” Harry sighed as he sat down on the bed. Draco couldn't help but grin that smug little grin of his, knowing that he had gotten what he wanted as he let go of Harry’s arm. “What’s bothering you?” Harry asked, taking Draco's hand in his and interlacing their fingers.

“Well, I have a headache, and my nose is all blocked up, and I have a cough, and my general being aches,” Draco told Harry. 

“I think that you have the flu,” Harry suggested. “I’ll get you a cloth for your forehead and I’ll get you something for that headache, and for the sinus stuff, but other than that we just have to wait it out,” Harry sighed, stroking his thumb over Draco's hand. Draco groaned in response. “Do you want to move to the couch or stay here? I’ll watch those cheesy romance movies that you like with you if you move to the couch,” Harry compromised. Draco tilted his chin up.

“I do not like to watch cheesy romance movies,” Draco responded. Harry grinned a bit.

“Really now? Because I’d reckon’ that we have a whole collection of them, one that I didn't buy.”

Draco pursed his lips, unable to come up with a good response, other than, “Sod off.”

-Twenty Minutes Later-

Draco lay back on the couch, head resting on the armrest as a cool cloth sat on his forehead. Harry had given him Advil, but Draco would have bet ten Galleons that it had made it worse. “It hurts,” he groaned as Harry walked in the room, holding a cup of tea. Draco saw Harry roll his eyes out of the corner of his own. “You think that I didn't see that but I saw it, Potter,” Draco said as Harry set the mug down on the coffee table.

“Draco, you survived a war, and now you're moaning on the couch about a _headache_ ,” Harry pondered, genuinely wondering if Draco even knew what priorities were.

“What, am I not allowed to verbalize my distress?” Draco quipped, taking the tea in his hands.

“No, you can verbalize it all you want,” Harry reassured. “I’ll be here to listen,” Harry said as he gave Draco a kiss on the cheek. Draco couldn't help but smile at the gesture, sipping his tea and holding it in his hands for the warmth. “What now? Nap, movie, food? All three?” Harry asked as he nudged Draco's legs so that he could sit down on the couch with him.

“Movie, I think,” Draco sighed, thinking over the options. He wasn't hungry, and that damned headache would have easily kept him from sleeping more, even though he wanted to. But, maybe later he would manage to get some sleep in.

-In The Evening-

The TV hummed vaguely in the background, some movie playing with no purpose anymore. Harry drifted in and out of consciousness before he blinked, waking up and assessing his position on the couch.

He was slumped down in the middle of the couch, legs spread with Draco’s head in his lap, Draco’s legs splayed over the rest of the couch. Harry smiled softly when he realized that Draco was asleep and snoring lightly, Harry’s hand resting on his head, the other on his chest.

Soup that had now gone cold sat on the coffee table, along with a half empty cup of tea and some crumpled tissues. Harry remembered grumbling about them, Draco simply swatting at him and telling him to stay still on the couch and to keep playing with his hair because it was comforting. And Harry also remembered Draco whining about how hungry he was, and Harry having to shut him up with a hot bowl of soup. Harry couldn’t help but remember Draco tugging on Harry’s arm as if he were a child, for Merlin’s sake, and asking him to sit on the couch with him.

Harry smiled a bit harder at the thoughts, and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair. He looked at Draco’s features in the pale light that echoed from the television. Draco still looked sick, he looked pretty pale, and he had half moon circles under his eyes. But Harry knew that soon enough Draco would be better, that he would be his regular, smart-mouthed self and Harry would be putting up with that calming banter that always happened between them, and Draco would be cooking dinner on the nights that Harry came home from work, too tired to do it himself.

And Harry would have shifted because his back was getting stiff and that position wasn’t comfortable and it was also probably quite late, Harry could tell from the light that came through the windows, but Draco looked so soft and sweet, and Harry would be damned if he was going to jostle him out of that state.

Instead, Harry let his head loll back against the couch, his hand still carding through Draco’s hair as he listened to the sound of the television, and the sound of Draco snoring softly.

Harry was just about to drift asleep when he felt Draco shift against him. “Harry?” he almost whispered. Harry lifted his head up and looked down at Draco, whose eyes were still closed.

“Hm?” Harry muttered back.

“Thank you for taking care of me today. I appreciate it,” Draco said quietly. Harry smiled and stroked a thumb over Draco’s cheek.

“You don’t have to thank me, Draco.”

“I love you,” Draco said, reverence in his voice. Harry was sure that the smile on his face was just about the goofiest thing there was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care, really.

“I love you too, Draco. No matter what.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, tell me what you guys thought!! I know this isn't really _drabble_ per say, it's more of a ficlet, but in the end, who cares, it's fluff and it's Drarry so *shrugs* Also, in case you want to talk to me or find me (that sounds strange but I have no better words so) then here's [my tumblr!!](http://ughcas.tumblr.com) And thank you so much for reading!!


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